


to be set in your place

by teacupfulofbrains



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: He's pissed off, M/M, a gift for sodoroses!!!, and theseus is a dick, basically remy confronts theseus about abandoning him on that island, but it's okay because he and emile LOVE EACH OTHER, this is set after "the sky most holy"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: remy never wanted to see theseus again. not after what that self-centered, stuck up hero did to him. so, of course, the fates saw fit to cross their strings.(OR: remy runs into theseus in the afterlife and has some choice words for him.)





	to be set in your place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoDoRoses (FairyChess)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Sky Most Holy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853594) by [SoDoRoses (FairyChess)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses). 



> this is a gift for my wonderful friend @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors on tumblr, pls go read all their stuff it's amazing i love vi so much 
> 
> tw: brief mentions of implied past character death, theseus being an asshole, mentions of past abandonment)

Remy never thought that he would willingly go to the Underworld. He didn’t want to go the first time, hearing the desperate pleas of his husband and children around him as the world faded to black, and when Emile came for him it was the happiest he’d ever been. He had sworn to himself that he would never return to the Underworld again.

If anything was going to get him to go back there, it would be his children.

Emile offers to make them immortal as well, when their threads of fate are finally cut short, but they refuse. “You can’t make us all immortal, Papa, Olympus will be furious,” Immy tells him.

“We have each other here,” Nessy smiles. “And besides, you and Dad can’t expect to spend forever with us following you around, can you?”

“You can always come and visit us!” Missy adds, throwing her arms around her parents. Emile looks like he wants to argue, but Remy lays a gentle hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. Their children are heroes; they have achieved Elysium, just like Remy did, but they have earned it. They will want for nothing here, safe and warm and protected.

“We’ll have to ask Logan if we can visit,” Emile sighs, gathering all his children into his arms and hugging them tightly. Remy carefully wraps his arms around his family, pressing kisses to the foreheads of all of his children. They wave at their parents, and Emile carefully leads Remy to the palace of the king of the Underworld.

“If you are here to request permission to make your children immortal, I have to decline,” Logan says curtly. He sits on his throne and glares at them, but Remy takes no offense; Logan always gets grumpy during the spring and the summer, when his husband returns to the surface world and he is alone. “I cannot continue to let people waltz out of my realm with my subjects.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Emile says gently. “I don’t want to make my children immortal, I just - I want permission to visit them sometimes, for me and my husband.”

Logan sighs. “And I suppose you are just going to pester me until I give you permission, the same way you did when you wanted to make your husband immortal?”

Emile’s cheeks turn pink. “I . . .”

“If he doesn’t, I will,” Remy says firmly. “You know you’re just grumpy right now because Roman’s not here. You of all people know how it feels when you’re separated from your family and you can’t see them.”

Logan glares specifically at Remy, and he hears Emile shuffling his feet nervously at his side but he tilts his chin up defiantly and glares right back. He will not let Logan’s bitching keep him from his children.

Finally, Logan sighs, casting a glance toward the throne next to his. Where his throne is pure black, polished obsidian, sharp and angular, the one next to his is elegant and bone-white, elaborately carved with flowers and vines. Logan reaches out and runs pale fingers over the pale carvings, and Remy wonders how he would react if he only saw Emile for six months of the year.

Suddenly, Logan’s reactions make perfect sense.

“I suppose,” Logan says, voice soft, “that I can permit you to see your children.”

“Thank you,” Emile murmurs, bowing his head.

“Thanks, Logan,” Remy says. “I know how much it sucks, to be separated from your spouse, but there’s only, like, two months left until fall happens. He’s coming back soon.”

“Yes,” Logan murmurs quietly. “That is . . . some comfort. I apologize for my short temper. I find that the absence of my husband tends to . . . exacerbate my more unpleasant character traits.”   
“Apology accepted. I, for one, am an absolute _bitch_ without my darling Emile around to temper me.” Emile blushes even more and lightly smacks his arm.

_"Remy!"_

Logan cracks a small smile, however, and Remy counts it as a victory.

* * *

 

They visit their children once every two weeks. Immy’s husband and Nessy’s wife both make it to Elysium as well, and Missy makes fast friends with a pair of mortals named Virgil and Patton. Virgil is a musician, she eagerly explains, who charmed the rulers of the underworld into giving him a chance to win his husband back, and now they reside in Elysium together. Virgil performs for Logan (and Roman, when the prince of spring returns) on the regular, but he is always happy to perform when Remy and Emile visit.

One day, the first day of fall, Remy is on his own as he ventures to the Underworld. Emile is busy with some godly duty or another, and Remy is quick to assure him that he’ll be okay on his own.

He is not okay. He is very, very lost. Emile is typically in charge of navigating them to the entrance to the Underworld, and Emile is not here, and Remy is _lost_.

“Fuck!” he shouts angrily. He almost kicks a tree, but decides that today is not the day to get a dryad angry at him.

“Hello?” someone calls. Remy turns rapidly, catching sight of a young man wearing red and white, with glowing bronze skin and fluffy bronze curls. His eyes are bright, and his smile is wide, and Remy inhales sharply as he recognizes the god of spring, the prince of the Underworld. “Is everything okay?”

Remy’s brain short-circuits for a moment before he lowers his head in respect. “Roman, Prince of the Underworld,” he says, because anyone who wants to be in Roman’s good graces doesn’t dare refer to him by the epithet of _God of Spring_ outside of that season.

“No need to be so formal!” Roman laughs, clapping a hand onto Remy’s shoulder. “I know who you are - you’re Emile’s husband, right?”

“I - uh - yeah, I am,” Remy stammers. “I didn’t realize you knew who I was?”

“Well, I _am_ the one who convinced Logan to let Emile take you from Elysium and make you immortal.”

“I really, _really_ appreciate that,” Remy says honestly. Roman smiles, eyes soft.

“I understand the pain of being separated from the person you love most in the world. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. I don’t think Logan appreciates how easy it is for me to convince him to let his subjects walk out, but I’ve only done it twice and I don’t regret either of those occasions.”

“Are you on your way home?” Roman looks slightly shocked when Remy refers to the Underworld as his home, and for a moment he worries he has upset the god. But then Roman smiles, brilliant and blinding and utterly joyful.

“Yes. Yes, I am, I am going home to my wonderful husband. Is everything alright with you, though? You sounded . . . upset.”

“Understatement,” Remy huffs. “I’m actually headed to the same place as you are.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My kids are in Elysium, so Em and I visit them pretty regularly, but Em’s busy with godly stuff today so I’m on my own. And because Em usually navigates and I don’t pay attention . . .”

“You’re lost?” Roman guesses.

“So far beyond lost, you have no idea.”

“Well, we’re going to the same place, aren’t we? Let’s go together!”

“That sounds amazing,” Remy says, easily falling into step with the other god. Before he knows what’s happened, he and Roman have been talking for hours and become fast friends, Remy promising to stop by and visit Roman when he visits his children during the winter.

When they approach the entrance of the Underworld, Remy spies a figure standing in the mouth of the cave. They almost appear to be searching for something, and Remy grins as he lightly elbows the other god.

“I think your husband missed you.”

Roman looks towards the cave, and his entire face lights up. He breaks into a run, waving his arms and shouting wildly. The figure is still for only a moment before moving rapidly towards Roman, and Remy takes only a moment to stare in awe at the pink and red carnations springing up in Roman’s wake before he’s hurrying after his new friend.

He catches up just in time for Roman to throw himself at the figure, which turns out to be none other than Logan himself. He catches Roman skillfully, using his momentum to spin them around, laughing gleefully. Roman locks his legs around Logan’s waist and his arms around Logan’s neck and his mouth against Logan’s. Remy smiles softly as flowers sprout spontaneously on Roman’s head, a physical manifestation of his joy. He recognizes red roses, heliotrope, honeysuckle, blue hyacinth, and morning glories among the veritable garden blooming in Roman’s hair as he kisses his husband for the first time in six months.

Remy stands there and watches them kiss for almost a minute. He wants to interrupt with his typical witty sarcasm, but he recognizes that the king of the Underworld has not seen his prince in half a year, so he says nothing.

Finally, they break apart, resting their foreheads together. Roman giggles, and Logan smiles, laughing softly. “Hello, my love,” he rumbles, voice low and impossibly soft.

“Hello, Logan,” Roman responds, rubbing their noses together. “I missed you!”

“And I have missed you. The Underworld is far less alluring without your presence.”

Only after a few more minutes of whispered affections and soft, gentle kisses does Logan notice Remy’s presence. His ears and face slowly redden, although he makes no move to put his husband down or prevent Roman from covering his face in little giggling kisses. “How - how long have you been -”

“The whole time, but don’t worry about it. It’s cute, it really is,” Remy says. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone how the great and powerful scary brooding god of the Underworld is a huge softy when it comes to his husband. I’m just here to see my kids.”

Logan looks like he wants to be angry (or at least severely annoyed), but he is distracted by his armful of happy, loving, giggling Roman. “Very well. Be on your way, then.”   
  
“Don’t forget to visit!” Roman chirps. Remy promises that he will, and begins his trek through the Underworld to Paradise.

* * *

 

Visiting his children is always wonderful. Virgil and Patton are there briefly, greeting Remy warmly before they head to the palace. Remy thinks on Roman’s poetic waxing about the music of the Underworld and hopes he finds the music satisfactory (although he does not doubt Virgil’s skill).

All too soon, Remy is standing and brushing off the thin fabric of his clothing, retying the sandals to his feet. “Do you have to go, Dad?” Immy begs.

“You know how your Papa gets when I leave him alone,” Remy teases. “I died _once_ and he went completely off the rails! I didn’t even stay dead!” It has taken many years to get to the point where he can laughs at his own mortality, at the fact that he almost lost his husband and his children forever. Emile still has not reached that point, but he has at least stopped looking like _he_ is the one with a javelin in his stomach every time Remy jokes about it, which is an improvement.

His children all crowd around to hug him, and he takes special care to cup each of their faces in his hands and press lingering kisses to their foreheads. “Be good, darlings. I love you, very very much, and so does your Papa.”

“We love you guys too, Dad,” Nessy says.

“Give Papa hugs for us, okay?” Missy requests.

“Of course I will. We’ll both see you in a little while, okay?”

His children wave at him as he leaves their corner of Paradise. He may not know the way to the Underworld, but he knows how to get to the palace from Elysium so that Logan can send him home. He is preoccupied as his feet retrace the familiar path, with thoughts of his children and his husband and his new friend the prince of the Underworld, and he is more than used to passing by the souls of departed heroes without much fanfare.

And then he passes someone and hears a sharp intake of breath, a wavering voice that he has not heard in decades, a disbelieving whisper.

“Remy . . .?”

Remy stops in his tracks, and for the first time since Emile kissed him and seared his mortal blood into ichor, his veins run cold as ice. He had never thought he would hear that voice again, but he never forgot it, either.

“It is you, right? You are Remy?”

Remy takes a deep breath, a breath he no longer needs, and turns around.

Theseus is exactly as maddeningly handsome as Remy remembers. He is built like a marble statue, and Remy knows all too well the way his muscles feel beneath his fingertips, the way his rough curls feel tangled in his hands, the way his mouth feels as he bites kisses along Remy’s neck and jaw. He stares into the sea-green eyes of the first man he ever loved, the man who abandoned him on that island all those years ago, and feels something inside him shatter.

Then he feels that something harden.

“Theseus,” he says coolly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Theseus breathes. He reaches a hand towards Remy, as though to cup his face. “Gods, Rem, I’ve missed -”

“Don’t,” Remy snaps. Theseus recoils sharply, snatching his hand back as though burned by celestial fire. “Don’t touch me.”

“Rem -”

“Don’t call me that, either. You lost the right when you _abandoned me_ on that island.”

“Rem, listen -”

“Listen to what? I _loved you_ , and you _used_ me. You used me to beat the labyrinth and slay the Minotaur, and for what? I abandoned my home, my family, my _life_ for you, because you promised me a new life! Well, you certainly gave me one, but it wasn’t what you promised!”

Remy’s hands are shaking with anger, and he curls them into fists.

“Clearly you did okay,” Theseus murmurs, taking a step forward. Remy takes a step back. “You made it to Elysium. To Paradise. That means you must have been a hero when you were alive, and that means that we can spend eternity together. I have all the time in the world to apologize to you and make up for what I did, we can start over, we can -”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

Remy raises an eyebrow. “I mean _no_ , Theseus. Did dying rob you of your ability to comprehend language, or did you lose that while you were alive?”

“I - I don’t understand. I thought you said you loved me?”

“Yeah, I did. _Loved_ , past tense. You honestly think I could still love you after what you did to me? Or do they omit you _marooning me for dead on an island_ when they sing the tales of your adventures?”

Theseus flinches, and Remy wonders if he is being too cold, too harsh. Then he remembers the bleakness of waking up on the island alone, the struggle to escape it and save himself, and decides that he is not being harsh enough.

“I messed up, okay?” Theseus’s voice is smaller than Remy can ever recall it being. “I - I was stupid, and full of myself, and high on the success of my mission and - and I thought -”

“You thought what, Theseus?” Remy prompts, when it becomes apparent that Theseus does not intend to finish the statement. Theseus looks at the ground, scuffing his sandal against the path. “You thought _what_ , Theseus.”

“I thought, why should I be tied down to one prince when I would have the world at my fingertips? I didn’t want to take myself out of the game after only seeing one kingdom.” Theseus has the decency to look ashamed of himself, staring at his feet.

Remy laughs, bitter and mirthless. “So I really do mean nothing to you, then.”

“No! I loved you, I _love_ you, I just -”

“Save it,” Remy snaps, “you dense motherfucker. You know _nothing_ about what love is.”

“And you do?” Theseus challenges. “I was stupid, yes! I made a mistake, and I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have left you like that - even if I did change my mind about marrying you, I shouldn’t have left you on an island to die! I should have had the courtesy to at least drop you somewhere populated! But the gods granted you a life in Paradise because you helped me with the labyrinth, and now we can be together! I spent the rest of my life regretting that decision, Rem, you don’t understand -”

He reaches forward to touch Remy again. His fingers close around Remy’s wrist, and Remy steps backward, yanking his hand from Theseus’s grasp.

“ _I told you not to touch me!_ ” he snaps. Theseus gapes, like Remy has suddenly sprouted a second head, which confuses Remy, because immortality may have changed him but he has always been a firebrand. “And I told you not to call me Rem, and could you _be_ more self-centered?!”

“What?”

“I’m not in Elysium because I _helped you_ , and I _certainly_ didn’t die on that island. I built a raft and I sailed to the mainland and I _saved myself_ , without any help from you or the gods or anyone at all! But I did meet a god while I was on that island  _where you abandoned me_.”

“A god?” The indignation brewing in Theseus’s face morphs to concern, suddenly. “Did they hurt you?”

“Emile would _never_.”

“You - the god of _madness?_ ”

“The god of the mentally ill,” Remy spits, because no one dismisses or diminishes his husband. Not while he’s around. “He came every day, and he always offered to save me or to whisk me away, but he _never did_. He let me save _myself_. And I did. And then we got married.”

“You - you married -”

“That’s right. I married a god. I married a god, and he set my wedding crown among the stars, and he -”

Remy stops. He takes a deep, calming breath, the way Emile taught him to, and when he opens his eyes again there is still fury there but also a calmness, one that only time could grant him.

“I married more than a god,” he says. “I married someone who understands me. I married someone who loves me, someone who wakes up every morning and looks at me not like a tool to be used or a prize to be won but as a complex individual who deserves to be treated as such. I married someone who wakes up and looks at me like I am the greatest god damn treasure that has ever existed. I married him, and I had three children with him, and when I died he loved me so much that I was granted an afterlife in Elysium. He loved me so much that he came all the way down here to plead with the god of the Underworld to have me back.”

Remy’s voice drops to a whisper, because he knows that it will break if he doesn’t. “He loved me so much that the god of the Underworld said yes. He loves me so much that he made me immortal.”

“You’re . . . what?”

“I didn’t get here when I died because of you, and I’m certainly not here for you now,” Remy says. “I’m here because my children were heroes, and they’ve been granted a hero’s respite, and I want to visit them.”

Theseus is dumbfounded. He opens his mouth repeatedly, but no words come out. Remy takes a grim satisfaction in that. “I suppose I should thank you,” he says coolly.

“Th - wh - huh?”

“Yeah, I should thank you. Because if you hadn’t marooned me on that island, I never would have met Emile. Your poor judgement and honestly shitty personality led me to meet the love of my life - the love of my _existence_. I know what true love looks like because of Emile, and I know what it most assuredly _isn’t_ because of you. So thank you, Theseus. I hope you have a good afterlife.”

Remy turns his back on Theseus, heading once more towards the palace. He hears footsteps speed up behind him, hears a painful, angered cry of “Remy, _wait_ -!” and feels a hand begin to close around his wrist again, but then the hand is gone and there’s a sudden _swoosh_ of air.

Remy turns sharply on his heel to see Emile, standing between him and Theseus, holding the stunned hero by the wrist. “I believe,” Emile says, in a voice that manages to be cheerful and deadly and threatening all at the same time, “that my husband asked you not to touch him.”

Theseus jerks his hand away from Emile, who simply smiles at him. “You should be more respectful of other people and their boundaries,” he tells him. Remy cannot see Emile’s expression fully, but he can easily picture the smile on his husband’s face. It appears perfectly normal and calm, but something slightly manic lingers at the edges, something dangerous, something decidedly inhuman.

“Shall we go, my love?” Emile asks, turning his back on Theseus and kissing Remy. He kisses Remy softly, gently, and Remy melts against him. Emile’s hands press against the small of his back and the back of his head as he leans forward, and Remy leans back. He knows Emile will keep him from falling. He trusts Emile with every fiber of his being.

“We shall.”

**Author's Note:**

> flower meanings!  
> pink carnation: i miss you; you are unforgettable  
> red carnation: admiration; i miss you  
> red rose: love; i love you  
> heliotrope: eternal love  
> honeysuckle: bonds of love  
> blue hyacinth: constancy of love  
> morning glory: affection
> 
> come scream at me on tumblr! // [@teacupfulofstarshine](https://teacupfulofstarshine.tumblr.com)


End file.
